Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

Chapter 93 First Career Victory

The second game, Chen Jixian's serve.

比分走势十分焦灼，从15—0到15—15，再到30—15、30—30。

Every point ended in a long, drawn-out rally.

"Is this kid's serve not very good?"

Stefano's serve return was surprisingly good, and the score remained close throughout.

But every time he received a serve, he could only block the ball back to the middle, and then he was constantly pressured at the baseline.

The Asian boy's returns were not fast, but the spin was very strong.

The ball bounced up and continued to rise, so he had to take half a step back to hit it in the sweet spot.

Just as he tried to press forward again, the next slap landed at his feet.

He was firmly tied to the bottom line by an invisible rope, unable to escape or break through.

"Is this kid from clay? He hasn't had a single flat serve, all of them are spin serves."

"By the way, his sliding skills are very high, which is probably why."

The score is now 30-30.

Stefano knew his chance had come.

This is a very sensitive and crucial score, and the pressure on the young Asian player is definitely not small.

Stefano loosened his racket: "Newcomers are most prone to shaking their hands at this point. Fight for another point and get a break point!"

His knees were burning hot, and his breathing was still catching up, but he couldn't suppress the thought in his mind—there was hope.

Although every shot is pinned behind the baseline, as long as you can touch the ball, you have a chance.

coming.

But this time, it wasn't a spin serve.

"No! Flat serve!"

The speed was significantly faster than before, and the ball landed perfectly on the inside corner line. The angle at which it bounced was lower than any of the previous shots.

He turned to reach for the ball, but didn't touch it at all; the ball flew out of bounds.

40—30.

ACE!

In the next point, Xiao Chen used the same inside corner serve. Stefano's return shot was shallow, and Chen Jixian finished it off with a forehand cross-court shot.

1-1

Both sides pledged to serve.

But the cost is quite different.

Stefano's knees were a little sore again, while Chen Jixian was just covered in sweat.

The Italian veteran stood there, panting.

From 30 to 30 to hold serve, the total time should not exceed 5 beats.

他回想这一局——15—0、15—15、30—15、30—30，每一次都让他燃起希望。

But in reality, there was absolutely no chance!

"30-30, it was the Asian kid who made a double mistake and gave me a point."

"Why did he double fault? Because his spin serve isn't his most frequently used serve!"

The hope of regaining hope is more painful than having no hope at all in the first place.

He gripped his racket tightly.

"The way to play on clay."

"Training for the second serve."

"Is this kid using me as a sparring partner?"

If Schneider were here, he would immediately realize that his players are already preparing for the semi-finals.

There's another Italian on the draw, ranked eighth in the world's youth rankings, a clay-court native, named Daldelli.

The first round of the main competition has ended.

6-3, 6-1

Chen Ji achieved his first victory in his professional career.

Surprisingly, Stefano managed to hold serve once in the second set, despite a recurrence of an old injury and a significant drop in physical strength.

In the case of consumption.

Xiao Chen didn't know if it was worth it, but he still admired his opponent.

"Are you using me as a sparring partner?" the Italian veteran asked.

Xiao Chen held his hand and didn't let go immediately.

"do you mind?"

Stefano stared at Xiao Chen for two seconds: "What if I said I mind?"

"Then I apologize," Chen Jixian said, his hand still gripping hers, "but I won't give up on doing this."

Stefano's eyebrows twitched slightly: "Why?"

"Because I'm chasing someone. He's standing too high, and if I don't climb up to him in the fastest way possible, I'll never catch up."

Chen Jixian will never forget that Park Jung-soo asked Schneider about Alcaraz's potential.

Schneider told the Starship executive:

The future top three in the world, the current top ten on clay.

Not just Aka.

Even Liu Zhimin's starting point was much higher than Xiao Chen's. She liked to lean on Xiao Chen's chest, but once she stood up, he could hardly reach her.

Stefano was silent for a moment. Then he released his grip and nodded.

It wasn't exactly forgiveness, just understanding. He'd played basketball for over a decade; he knew what it meant to "not be able to catch up."

Sometimes you can't catch up with the ball, but more often than not, you can't catch up with the person you want to stand next to.

However, how could an Asian boy of this age and with such skill experience anxiety?

Are all kids crazy these days?

"Ko Dong-hyuk won again, and he mentioned you again in the post-match live broadcast."

Schneider came to the sidelines.

Chen Jixian wiped his sweat: "Never mind him, where's Daldry's video?"

Schneider glanced at him and put his phone back in his pocket: "It was taken with my phone. I'll send it to you when we get back to the hotel."

Xiao Chen lowered his head and pondered.

Does Schneider's quick return mean that Daldry finished the match even faster than him?

That's right. A +5 forehand is no joke. In Monastir, it's practically the ceiling.

"How did it feel to play your first professional game?" Schneider asked.

Xiao Chen took a sip of water and prepared to go to the locker room: "Stephano, that Italian, he has a knee injury, but he still managed to win a game in the second set."

Schneider didn't speak. He knew that Xiao Chen wasn't boasting about how easily he had won.

He was praising the person opposite him.

"How many games did Daldry play today?" Chen Jixian asked.

"Both sets ended 6-1."

Xiao Chen paused for a moment, then continued walking.

Take a bath.

eat.

The appointment for the physiotherapy room is scheduled for half an hour later.

Chen Jixian ate something at the buffet: pasta, banana, and a protein shake.

The physiotherapy room was at the end of the corridor. He pushed open the door, just as someone came out.

Daldry.

The two almost collided again.

"Feel sorry."

Unlike last time, today it was Xiao Chen who expressed his willingness to donate.

Daldry was slightly shorter than Xiao Chen, and his hair was wet, indicating he had just taken a shower.

After recognizing Xiao Chen, he gave him a friendly smile.

"We meet again."

Daldry walked past him, his body almost brushing against Xiao Chen's shoulder.

The therapist saw Xiao Chen and said directly, "Lie down, you're the second one today."

Chen Jixian lay on the massage bed, remembering what Schneider had said: Daldry had two 6-1 scores today.

Today, Xiao Chen not only achieved a 6-3 score, but also gained a lot of experience from the veterans—their attributes improved too quickly, and he's still a little unaccustomed to it.

So the therapist told him, "You're the second one, Daldry was the first."

At noon, Chen Jixian was leaning against the bed, watching Dardley's match videos.

Schneider suddenly sent me a message: "Posting this: My first career win."

Chen Jixian was taken aback: "You absolutely have to send it?"

He doesn't really want to post this kind of superficial stuff; he's not used to talking to a camera or a phone screen.

Moreover, Xiao Chen didn't think it was necessary; it was just an ordinary competition, not a Grand Slam.

Schneider's reply was very brief: "The fans are waiting, and it's a professional player's responsibility to protect their fans. Besides, they might need some good news."

He hesitated for a moment, but still picked up his phone.

The latest post on Xiao Chen's fan site was published last Sunday.

That's a photo of him signing in at Monastir—taken by Schneider at a casual angle, showing him looking down at the sign-in table.

The comment section has been flooded with mockery from Liu's fans.

"Even people who get wildcards based on their looks have fan clubs."

"Karina is incredibly unlucky."

Why is your fan site still around?

At first, the administrator could delete them one by one, but later they couldn't keep up.

Looking back today, those comments are still there, they've been there for several days now.

Nobody cares anymore.

-

A fan messaged the administrator: "Why aren't those posts deleted?"

The administrator replied, "We can't delete them all."

The other party then asked, "Are you still running the fan site?"

The administrator did not reply.

Kim Mi-young said in the group chat, "I can't hold on much longer."

She was still staying up all night last month editing game highlights, adding subtitles, and uploading them to YouTube.

Now, Kim Mi-young opens her phone and finds her private messages filled with insults.

"Are you out of your mind to make a video for someone who's just trying to ride on the coattails of a female idol?"

She didn't care about being scolded, but what frustrated her was that she couldn't refute it.

Xiao Chen's points are 0, and the wildcard is from his agency. Kim Mi-young's only asset is a photo from the Daegu Junior Championships—which she's been using for over a month.

I can't hold on much longer.

There's nothing left to keep me alive.

But there are still people waiting.

The people in the group aren't saying anything, but they're still there.

The administrator knew what they were waiting for.

Today is the first day of the main event, and the competition should be over, but the ITF website hasn't been updated yet.

Kim Mi-young refreshed the page every few minutes, and the result was always the same: the scoreboard was still empty, and the schedule was still "pending".

Someone in the group asked, "Are you done playing?"

No one answered.

A few minutes later, someone else asked, "Did you win?"

Still no answer.

They didn't know whether they would win or lose; all they knew was that their opponent was a seasoned veteran.

I'm afraid he'll lose, and I'm also afraid he'll win.

If we lose, this fan site can be disbanded immediately.

Even if they win, Liu's fans will say, "So what if you win? You still have to play against the odds."

Regardless of winning or losing, they are the ones who get scolded.

They've gotten used to it.

I just wanted to see the score.

Kim Mi-young refreshed the webpage again, but the scoreboard hadn't been updated yet.

She was about to turn off her phone when someone suddenly sent her a screenshot in the group chat.

This is not the official ITF website.

It's Instagram.

Xiao Chen's Instagram account still features the same Babolat PD as his profile picture.

The latest post was published three minutes ago.

"First win. 6-3, 6-1."

There were no pictures, no thank-you notes, and no labels.

Just one line of score, two periods.

The group was silent for about five seconds.

Then someone typed: "He posted it."

Then Kang chimed in, "We won!"

Third Kang said, "Quick, take a screenshot."

Kim Mi-young has already intercepted it.

The comment section is restricted, allowing only mutual followers to leave comments.

Liu Xia couldn't rush in and flood the screen with comments, so she could only curse in the reposts.

In the comments section, a few scattered messages are popping up: "Congratulations on your first win."

"Thanks for your hard work"

"Looking forward to your next performance"

"Old Chen is awesome!"

"Yan has spirit"

Jin Meiying commented on Xiao Chen's post, writing: "I'm watching."

The administrator posted a screenshot of the comparison on the site's main page.

A few sarcastic comments from Liu fans are still there, but they haven't been deleted.

Because below, Kang has already begun to fight back—

"He doesn't rely on his face, he relies on the racket in his hand."

It's just a losing game; it's not like we've never played before!

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